


Pesky Poxglove

by CanterburyBells



Category: Dragon Quest Builders (Video Games)
Genre: (there aren't any don't worry!), Friends to Lovers, I have been informed that this does not exactly qualify as a strict pwp?, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sex Pollen, but i'll leave spoilers in my bottom a/n for anyone who wants them before reading, just guys being dudes, mash them together and what do we get?, may add more tags later idk, more tenderness and emotional build up imo, not tagging this with any consent issues, pwpwf: porn without plot with feelings ayyyy!, there is like the slightest hint at plot??? sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:41:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23570224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanterburyBells/pseuds/CanterburyBells
Summary: When Zach and Malroth take a trip to the Unholy Holm, they run into some pesky trouble with a flower.
Relationships: Builder/Malroth (Dragon Quest Builders 2), Male Builder/Malroth (Dragon Quest Builders 2)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 58





	Pesky Poxglove

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I've been dying to write something for this fandom for a while so I'm really excited to share this! A few notes before we start though (that you can totally skip past if you want to because most of them are not important at all):
> 
> I know Sex Pollen can be a tricky trope that oftentimes includes dub-con or non-con. This fic contains neither. I'll be leaving a short explanation (spoilers) in the bottom A/N for anyone who is still unsure. I also didn't tag a specific type of sex and I'll add that to the A/N as well, but I didn't want to spoil anything in case some people prefer surprises!
> 
> This fic has instilled in me an earnest hatred of rain sounds. I listened to SO MANY rain playlists writing this sucker and the weather where I live has also been miserable and wet for a while so I'm honestly just SO SICK of rain now. Guess what's on the weather radar for the next four days?:>
> 
> I make a super short reference to the Builder being dragged out of the ocean somewhere in the fic, which is a nod to the absolutely beautiful opening cinematic rather than what actually happens in the beginning of the game. Literally not important to the fic at all, but I like to pretend that my Builder got pulled from the dark depths by Malroth's big, strong arms rather than called 'Spiky' and then shown a pile of corpses. I mean, I love Malroth exactly how he is, but I can still dream.
> 
> Anyways, I'm done talking now, so I'll see you at the end. Enjoy!
> 
> [EDIT]: Made a few minor word and punctuation changes here and there, but nothing drastic. So if you're rereading and anything looks a bit different, that's why!

\-----

** Zach **

“Can you remind me why I agreed to come out to this dumb island with you again?” Malroth kicks a rock aside, huffing in irritation.

Zach scans the horizon from the top of a short hill with his binoculars, searching in vain for some of the bright red flowers he remembers from his time in Malhalla. “Because,” he peers more closely at a blurry blip on the horizon but quickly disregards it since it’s moving, and he knows that flowers definitely can’t walk. “You were just as fed up with Gremville’s whining as everyone else and volunteered to run him over with the buggy, and when you realized it was a hard “no”, you decided to tag along and bug me instead of sticking around to get yelled at.”

“I still don’t get why no one else wanted to bury that little pipsqueak in the ground.”

Zach drops his binoculars to shoot him a look just disapproving enough to hide the smile threatening to show on his face.

“I know he won’t stop complaining about how terrible “human food” is, but that’s no reason to _kill_ him, geez. We’ll just bring back a load of his favorite vines, and he’s sure to chill out for a while.”

Malroth huffs again and scuffs his boot on the rocky ground. “And you’re sure you’ll find them here? This place is pretty barren – nothing like Furrowfield. You really think plants can grow in this place?”

Zach’s mouth twists unpleasantly. “If anywhere has them, it’ll be here.”

The Unholy Holm is unsettlingly familiar. He would like to think it was a lucky coincidence that Captain Brownbeard had discovered an island that directly mirrored the landscape of Malhalla so soon after Malroth, Zach, and his monster buddies escaped it, but this particular coincidence had happened several times already with other islands. He was beginning to suspect it had something more to do with the makeup of this illusory world made real rather than simple luck. He hears Malroth grumble again from below his spot on the hill – something that sounds suspiciously like he’s blaming Zach for being too nice to everyone. 

Zach rolls his eyes and is about to scold him for kicking rocks at passing monsters when he finally spies that bright, bloody splash of red unique to the petals of those monstrous flowers. According to Gremville, they grow the vilest vines, and he had refused to stop whining for anything less than the best. Zach had decided to take his word about the taste as well as do everything in his power to get Gremville to stop driving everyone on the island absolutely nuts.

He waves down at Malroth to get his attention and points to the side of a cliff off to the east. “I think I see some up there,” he calls down. “Race you!”

He doesn’t wait to catch the look of surprise on Malroth’s face, but he definitely doesn’t miss his holler of betrayal. Zach takes a running leap from the hill and lets his windbraker catch him. The island is windy today and smells of an oncoming storm. A gust snaps the windbraker taut like an ocean breeze filling a sail, and it carries him quickly toward the cliff. He hears Malroth still shouting below him and growling impressively creative threats, and Zach can’t help but laugh and throw his head back in delight.

When he lands, he barely has the chance to get his balance again before Malroth tackles him like a mad sabrecat. They roll on the ground in a ball of twisted limbs like the world’s most colorful tumbleweed before eventually coming to a hard stop against the cliff face. They fall apart and untangle themselves between out of breath giggles. Zach stands again and spits out a mouthful of dry, red sand before offering a hand down to Malroth.

As they scale the cliff, Malroth asks, “So, what are we gonna do after we get the vines? I bet there’s something cool in that red lake we saw on our way here.”

Zach tries not to breathe in the dust and grit that falls from his handholds when he answers dryly, “Yeah, that’s blood. Not that much fun to jump into – trust me.” He pauses in his climbing and takes a second to glance back up at the darkening sky. There’s definitely going to be rain soon. “We should probably head back home as soon as we’re done. There are a few more materials we could collect, but it looks like a big storm is coming, and Brownbeard’s steering is bad enough in clear weather.” He grunts when his next handhold gives way under him, but Malroth leans down and snags his wrist to give him time to steady himself.

“Come on,” Malroth whines. “We just got here. We need something more fun to do than collect freaky plants. Aren’t there any crazy strong monsters here we can pummel?” Zach smiles to himself. Of course, that would be the main thing on Malroth’s mind. He saves his breath until they pull themselves up over the cliff ledge a few moments later and answers while they sit and catch their breath.

“I think I may have seen one of those giant statues on a cliff way back, but like I said, it looks like there’s a storm rolling in, and I really don’t want to get my ass kicked in the rain and fall off a cliff.” He powers through Malroth’s displeased frown and promises, “We can always come back in a few days and fight all the monsters you want.”

He holds his hand up for a stationary high five, and Malroth firmly resists for a few long seconds until Zach wiggles his fingers and waggles his eyebrows for good measure. Malroth finally lets a smile crack his put-out expression and smacks his palm against Zach’s.

“Alright, alright. Let’s get your dumb vines and race back to Brownbeard then. Maybe _someone_ can try not to cheat this time.”

\-----

** Malroth **

They spot the flower off to the left by piles of floating rubble suspended several feet above their heads. Zach starts inspecting the ground for signs of pink, rubbery vines while Malroth entertains himself with playing an improvised game of pool with the floating rocks and heavy stones from the ground.

“Oh, hey, here they are! They’re all covered in this stupid red sand. It’s kind of…sparkly. It doesn’t normally look like this.” Malroth pauses with his arm pulled back and drops the rock to go investigate where Zach is crouched on the ground.

“Hey, it _is_ pretty shiny. Where do you think it came from? Maybe that big stone guy sneezed on it. We should go kick its ass for sneezing on your vines.” He smacks his fist into his palm and tries not to look too hopeful.

Zach sighs. “You’re not very sneaky. Come on and help me collect these.” Malroth groans but takes the pair of metal shears Zach offers.

“You’re no fun.” He knows he’s pouting, but he really wanted to fight some damn monsters. But Zach has never broken a promise to him yet. He already walked through a veritable hellscape to keep his promise to Malroth before, so he knows without a doubt that Zach will bring him back to smash some monsters later. He snips another vine, and something about the squelching sound, the slight resistance before the exterior gives and the inside suctions against the metal blades wetly – well. Something about the feeling reminds him of flesh.

He says so to Zach who looks at him skeptically. “It’s just a vine. I mean, it’s thick and kind of juicy, but they don’t taste like…flesh.”

“Oh right, you ate these in Malhalla didn’t you? What do they taste like then?”

Zach’s face scrunches up in disgust at the memory. “So, imagine pasta.” He waves his shears around in one hand to gesture vaguely at the air. “But now imagine it’s ten times as thick, covered in grease, and has the consistency of either tire rubber or a mealy apple. There is literally no in-between; it just depends on which vine you were stupid enough to eat.”

He looks thoughtful for a moment before adding, “They also taste kind of like hot motor oil.”

Malroth hums in acknowledgement. “So, like Lulu’s cooking.”

Zach laughs and tosses another vine into the basket he pulled out of his pack. “Yeah, imagine the damage she could do with a few of these.”

Malroth snorts in agreement. “Well, if Lulu’s food hasn’t killed me yet, I bet these won’t either. There’s no way they’re actually _worse_.” He sniffs the oozing vine in his hand. The liquid it drips is a watery pink like the juice from a watermelon, but the smell is more bitter and metallic than sweet. It reminds him of blood. He squints at it warily. He sticks the tip of his tongue out and is about to lick the droplet of goo threatening to fall to the ground when Zach barks at him.

“What the hell are you doing? I _just_ told you how nasty that thing is, and you’re going to eat it anyway?”

“Well, I was only going to lick it, but now that you’ve challenged me – ” Malroth grins wickedly and takes a bite of the vine suddenly. Zach tears his eyes away and makes a gagging sound. Malroth tears at the vine like a dog with a chew toy, but the hardy skin refuses to give like it did for the shears. Looks like he got the ‘tire rubber’ variety. He decides that messing with Zach isn’t worth breaking his teeth over and gives up.

He spits out the oily fluid that got into his mouth and tosses the vine into the basket. He’s still suspicious, but the vine tasted more like motor oil than flesh, just like Zach had said. He sniffs the air again, trying to find more vines to test. His nose has never lied, so something around here has to either be made of some kind of fleshy meat or else had eaten meat recently.

“Hey Zach, are these flowers cannibals?” Malroth asks as he hunts around the cliff. He sees Zach’s eyebrows scrunch up in confusion as he scans around the ground around them.

Then Zach snorts. “Do you maybe mean carnivores?”

Malroth grumbles under his breath, “ _They could be both –_ ” but it’s still loud enough that it earns him a fond eyeroll. Zach probably just thinks he’s being unreasonably suspicious.

“I don’t remember seeing them eat anything on Malhalla. I guess these could possibly be a different species, or I just missed them feeding if it ever happened, but I doubt they eat things.” Zach gestures at the basket with his shears. “They probably get their nutrients from the vines they grow.”

Malroth doesn’t like this answer – he knows he’s onto something – and he continues stomping around the cliff sniffing furiously, letting Zach get back to the whole reason they’re even here. He frowns when his boot slips on a slick vine that the red sand has yet to cover up and bumps into something soft. The garish red flower that Zach had followed up here rests right in front of him, growing out of a small protrusion of solid rock on the cliff top. The massive blood red petals are twisted together in a bud, and it sways from its impact with Malroth’s elbow.

“Hey, Zach…” He pokes the bud with his finger, the red of his gloves a nearly identical shade to the petals. It looks squishy and soft, much like the pink vines. He sniffs it, and the smell is even more obvious up close now that he knows where it’s coming from. It’s pungent and…meaty. Like a slab of bloody fat left out in the sun to rot. He wrinkles his nose and watches as it sways back and forth slowly from the force of his finger, but its movement is strange. It reminds him of a balloon that’s lost some air – bouncy but almost like it’s being weighed down at the same time. “Come look at this thing. Do you think something’s inside it?”

He hears Zach grumble over being interrupted again. He’s also possibly still peeved over Malroth grossing him out earlier, but he makes his way over after tossing a handful of vines at the basket. Most of them miss. He’ll have to irritate Zach more when they’re back home so he can practice his lousy aim.

“It’s just a flower, Malroth. If you leave it alone, it won’t bite you.”

“So they _are_ carnivores!”

“I was kidding!”

Malroth frowns. “What a letdown.” He pokes the bud again so Zach can watch it. “See? It’s so big, and it’s moving like it has something in it. I think we should crack it open and see.” He makes to grab at the petals, and Zach smacks at his hands and holds them still.

“Leave it alone, dumbass. What if it really does eat meat? I don’t know much about the plants here, so I don’t want to risk anything. But we can ask Griswold when we get back. I built him a conservatory on the escape ship, so he probably knows way more than I do about them. Just – _don’t_ …touch the flower.” He eyes Malroth pointedly before slowly pulling his hands back. He never takes his eyes off of Malroth’s which was his first mistake. His second was trusting Malroth to listen only minutes after he completely ignored Zach’s multiple warnings about the vines.

Since he’s focused on watching Malroth’s eyes for signs of spontaneous deceit, he doesn’t see Malroth’s hand shoot out toward the plant in time to restrain it again. Malroth decks the plant like it personally spit in his face, and he watches in fascination as the plant ripples and starts to swell while Zach tries to give him whiplash by shaking his shoulders. He’s not really listening to what Zach is yelling at him – it’s probably just more frustration that Malroth _really_ _is_ that much of an idiot – too busy watching the bud grow to a startling size. He wiggles his fingers to get Zach’s attention before pointing at the flower.

Zach turns just in time for them to both watch the petals unfurl rather gracefully –

– before it spews everything inside of its engorged body at them all at once.

In a split second they’re both covered from head to boot in sparkling golden pollen. It clings to their hair and fills their noses and mouths. Malroth tastes its severe bitterness coating his tongue and throat as he hacks and gags trying to cough it back up. Zach seems to be in the same boat bent double wheezing and breathing out clouds of pollen-clogged air.

Malroth blinks, and it’s in his eyes and stings like the mother of all men o’ war. Tears spring to his eyes, and the pollen on his face starts to clump together from the wetness running down his cheeks. He rubs furiously at his eyes with the clean inside of his vest until he can blurrily see again. He takes a quick second to reach over and smack Zach on the back a few times since he’s still coughing up his lungs, and he tears the canteen from his belt with his other hand to shove at him.

Zach takes another rattling breath before tipping the canteen back and promptly choking on the mouthful of water. He spits it up like he just got pulled out of the ocean (again), and Malroth urges him to take another swig through his hacking. He finally gets a few good sips down and stops coughing long enough to catch his breath again. Malroth pats his back firmly a few more times to make sure he got everything out, and Zach shudders out a shaky, relieved exhale.

Then he turns the full force of his rage on Malroth again.

“WHY THE HELL DID YOU PUNCH IT?!” Malroth holds his glittering, incriminating hands up in weak surrender. “Look at us; this stuff is never going to come off! It’s so sticky, and we won’t be able to shower it off until we – ”

Suddenly a terrifying rumble splits the air above them.

Zach glares at him and looks like he’s fighting not to look up at the sky. “I swear to Rubiss, Malroth, if it starts raining – ”

It starts raining.

\---

Luckily the rain is just sprinkling for the moment.

Not so luckily, the sprinkling seems to be barely a blip on Zach’s radar which is unfortunately set firmly to “KILL MALROTH”. Malroth decides that he’s better off leaving Zach on the island to cool off and can just come back and get him in a few days when he’s ready to fight monsters rather than bash his best friend’s head in. He grabs the basket and hauls ass down the side of the cliff with Zach hot on his heels. With the basket weighing him down (damn, he should have left it for Zach to carry; that would have slowed him down for sure) it doesn’t take long for Zach to start catching up.

He sounds like he’s only feet behind Malroth when he yells, “When I catch you, I’m going to throw you in the blood lake and leave you stranded here!” Damn. Looks like Zach had the same idea that he did.

 _Maybe if I can reach the ship first_ , he thinks, _I can push Brownbeard off and just steer it myself._

He cackles and yells this idea back at Zach to goad him just a little bit more, but it doesn’t earn him another angry retort. Instead, he can’t even hear the sounds of furious footsteps behind him anymore. He lets his speed peter out and turns to see Zach several yards back the way they came from bent over with his hands braced on his knees. Malroth drops the basket in alarm and runs to him.

When he gets closer, he sees that Zach’s eyes are wide and panicked, and his breaths are short and sharp. He has his back arched oddly in a desperate attempt to open his airway up just a little bit more. Malroth isn’t sure how to help him best, but he wrangles Zach’s bookbag off anyway and pounds on his back until he finally hears Zach cough a few times. He sounds like a barking dog, but he’s at least wheezing huge, shuddering breaths in and out again. Malroth easily switches to rubbing soothing circles against Zach’s back and tries to give him time to breathe and a sturdy side to lean against.

A few long moments later, Zach’s breathing has mostly evened out, and Malroth barely catches it when he whispers hoarsely, “You know I wouldn’t really leave you on the island, right?”

Malroth feels heat swarm his cheeks, and he swears that his heart falters. His surprise at the sudden confession causes him to fumble in his back circles for a split second before he quickly resumes. He feels oddly touched at the admission, but responding with an equally sappy remark would only make this all super awkward, so he replies with a cocky smile hoping to break the tension. “You’re just saying that because I was winning.”

Zach laughs weakly. Malroth never believed for a second that Zach would actually abandon him, and he never meant a word of his own threat either. They’ve had their fair share of experiences with betrayal and forsaking friends, and neither of them has any desire to repeat those particular heartbreaks. Malroth would go back and face off against his bastardized alter ego one thousand times over – weaponless, barefoot on glass, all alone – if that would allow him to take back every horrible thing he ever said or did to Zach. If it meant even the slightest chance of keeping Zach safe and happy with him forever. But something deep inside him aches to think that Zach doesn’t know that too. Fuck not being sappy and awkward; his friendship with Zach is stronger than that. But he feels his cheeks get even hotter as he attempts to return the sentiment. 

“Uh, me too though,” he tries. “I mean – I wouldn’t leave you on the island, or any island. _Again_ , I mean – ugh!” Damn, why are feelings so _hard_? Malroth drags his free hand down his face in embarrassment and despair, smearing more pollen around. Zach seems to understand though if his growing grin is anything to go by.

He slowly stands up straight again, and Malroth lets his hand fall and helps Zach store his bookbag into his other, suspiciously endless, bag – both to keep it dry and to keep its weight off of his back and hopefully avoid another coughing fit. The rain is steadily picking up, and they quickly realize that the storm is rolling in too fast for them to reach the ship in time. Instead, they both agree that finding somewhere to hunker down and wait it out is their best bet, so as they walk close together along the cliffside, Malroth asks Zach how he’s feeling.

“I’m kind of freezing. This rain is like ice.” He wraps his hands around his elbows and rubs them up and down furiously. “But it’s weird. I feel like I’m burning up, too. Like, my skin is cold, but my head feels like I’m coming down with a fever.”

Malroth frowns. Is the rain already getting to Zach? He thinks it might still be a little early for that to be the cause. What if that pollen had made Zach sick? …But wouldn’t he have the same symptoms? Unless it’s allergies. Malroth isn’t a total wimp and doesn’t believe in allergies or getting sick, so he isn’t going to let a little rain or pollen make him shiver. And he doesn’t feel hot either. Maybe whatever it was is was taking longer to affect him because he’s not a little twig like Zach? He doesn’t feel much different after getting spit on by the flower. Maybe a little adrenaline-fueled, like his blood is buzzing and he could face a whole army of Hargon’s lackeys without breaking a sweat, but –

Oh.

Uh oh.

Malroth knows that feeling. He recognizes that familiar heat simmering in his muscles from pumping blood after a long fight. He feels like this often after really intense battles. His mind and body crave another bloody battle, but one part of his body, well, … it craves something entirely different. He always has to walk in front of Zach on their way back to the ship after these battles so he won’t scar him. Malroth doesn’t know why his body reacts like that, but he does know that it would be basically impossible to sneak off or convince Zach that he’s taking an extended leak every time they finish battling a dragon or giant or whatever.

But why the hell is it happening now? Is this because of the flower too? But why would it make Zach sick but make him horny? He decides that they should hurry up with finding a cave before things get totally embarrassing for him. He picks up the pace but makes sure to keep a close eye on Zach as they hurry.

\-----

** Zach **

By the time they finally spy a large enough cave for them to take shelter in, the rain is coming down in icy, stinging sheets, and the wind is buffeting it right at them no matter which way they turn their heads. Zach has stopped fighting to keep his shivering muscles still and his teeth from clacking together. He’s running on fumes, toes and fingers frozen and sluggish and has obviously slowed down enough to concern Malroth. He feels an arm wrap around his back and a hand settle on his waist, and Malroth practically drags him the last few feet to the cave mouth until they can both collapse on the hard, dry ground in a pile of soaked clothes and shivering limbs. It doesn’t take long for the cold wind to force them back up, deeper into the cave, and make them set to building a fire.

The fire lights the cave walls with a dim, flickering light, but it’s enough to ward off the worst of the chill.

Zach expects them both to stick close together by the fire, like they always do, but Malroth quietly drags himself to the side opposite of Zach. He watches Malroth lie on his side, head propped on one hand, with his back to the warmth of the fire. Zach tries to ignore how odd it feels to not have Malroth’s arm still wrapped around him. He sits with his legs pulled to his chest, wet jeans straining uncomfortably, and wraps his arms around them. He stares at the slowly swaying flames and turns his thoughts to his strange symptoms.

He still feels the cold from his wet clothes despite the punishing wind and rain being out of the picture. But the chill on his skin is quickly being overtaken by an uncomfortable heat. The warmth in his head that earlier reminded him of past colds has morphed into a thick, soupy feeling behind his eyes. His head is sluggish and foggy, and he can feel the warmth dripping like honey down his body and slowing his limbs. He scoots a few surreptitious inches away from the fire.

But there’s something else. There’s a hot, prickling feeling in his gut that doesn’t match up with everything else. The heat in his skull doesn’t truly feel like a cold or fever either. He feels no urge to sneeze, and his sinuses feel clear despite the pollen from earlier. He has stopped coughing by this point as well, but his breathing is still curiously strained though his throat no longer feels clogged. Another searing tug suspiciously low in his gut has him blinking away from the flames and looking down at himself.

And suddenly he sees what the problem is.

He can feel his cheeks blaze with embarrassment, and even though he knows Malroth has barely shifted from his position across the cave and is still facing the other direction, he quickly tucks his boiling face into his knees. Why? Why is he doing this _now_? He thought he was sick! He’s dizzy and unbelievably hot, and he can’t seem to get enough air, but there’s no reason to – to be…

Suddenly he feels a wet touch on his face, and someone says, “—ach? …Zach. Hey, Zach, what the hell happened? Come on, get up!” He feels another light slap on his burning cheek and slowly realizes that the coolness pressed to his other one is the rocky floor of the cave. His eyelids feel like stone giants have decided to rest on them, and after struggling to open them for a few long seconds, he blurrily makes out Malroth’s figure crouching over him, the firelight creating a halo around him from behind. Malroth pokes his cheek, probably to be annoying, but Zach doesn’t miss the obvious look of relief that flashes over his face when he meets Zach’s eyes.

“What was that about, genius? Next time you want to take a nap, maybe don’t do it sitting up. It sounded like your head hit the ground pretty hard.”

If Zach’s head aches, he can’t feel it over the blood burning in his veins. He fights to sit back up but freezes when Malroth asks with surprise in his voice, “Oh, you too?” Too? He looks at Malroth with a question on the tip of his tongue until he sees where exactly Malroth is looking.

The sound he makes isn’t a yelp, per say, but it’s almost as embarrassing as Malroth staring right at his boner. The boner that has miraculously refused to go away even through Zach’s literal blackout on a dank cave floor. He yanks his legs back up to his chest and hisses at Malroth, “Well don’t _stare_ at it!”

Malroth snorts and rolls his eyes. “I knew you’d be like this if you saw one. A total blushing maiden –”

Zach scowls. “Do you think I’m completely blind? You’re not very sneaky about walking in front of me after battles, you ass.”

Malroth looks appalled then angry. “You knew this whole time and never said anything?! What kind of a jerk best friend are you? I could have been beating off behind a tree _for months,_ and you just let me suffer? What the hell is wrong with you!” A small slap fight ensues with Zach at a serious disadvantage still stuck on the ground.

He blocks another slap and retorts, “It’s not like you said anything either! You could have just made up an excuse and met me back at the ship.”

Malroth stops smacking at him and grumbles. “Yeah, well, maybe I didn’t want to ditch you for something dumb.”

“You’re dumb,” Zach mumbles childishly, but it falls flat in the new awkward silence of their rather personal revelations. Zach is wide awake now after that confrontation, but he suddenly remembers something.

“Wait, you said “too”. So, are you – ” He glances down at Malroth’s legs and finds his answer. “You _are_!”

Malroth quickly catches on and finally begins to show signs of unease as his cheeks flush bright pink, and he shifts awkwardly in place. “Hey! If I can’t look then you can’t either!”

Zach can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. He leans his head back against the cool floor and giggles, and Malroth apparently can’t help but to join in. But eventually Zach has to ask –

“Um, are you… _you know_ …for a certain reason?”

Malroth quirks a dark eyebrow at him and waits for clarification.

“I mean, nothing brought this on for me. I thought I was getting sick, but for some reason my body is – I don’t know! I’m hot and horny, and I have no idea why! Usually there’s a pretty _obvious_ reason – ”

Malroth’s laugh cuts his tirade short. “Yeah, yeah, I understand. I was wondering the same thing before we got to the cave. All I could think of was maybe that flower did something to us. Neither of us has eaten since we left the island earlier, so what else – ”

“You think that pollen we breathed in was poisonous or something?”

“More like a weird drug. I wonder if it’s hitting you harder because you swallowed some of it? You probably drank a lot down with the water I gave you. Or maybe it’s just because you have a weaker constitution than I do.” Malroth grins and dodges a pitiful swing from Zach.

“Do you feel like it’s wearing off on you yet?” Zach asks.

Malroth sighs. “Not really. It feels like it’s just … simmering. It feels like I’m sitting in a hot spring, but every time I move the water just gets warmer and warmer. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Zach croaks. His throat is tight. He chalks it up to all of his coughing earlier, though his lower body disagrees. “It feels like a damn sauna in here. I’m so hot.” He finally finds the strength to push himself back up into a sitting position and takes a moment to pull off the bandana sweltering around his neck. He yanks his gloves and vest off for good measure, and he’s about to start unbuttoning his wet shirt to let some cool air on his skin when he catches Malroth’s red, red eyes watching him. Zach spies a bead of sweat glistening on the sharp edge of his jaw before rolling down the taut skin of his neck and continuing over his muscled chest.

Zach swallows thickly.

He’s about to say something, anything to break the silence, when an explosion splits the air right outside of the cave.

Lightning.

The storm has finally begun.

He feels himself yanked down, and his body collides with something hard. His heart is beating a thousand miles a minute from the adrenaline and fear of being so close to that brilliant force of nature that snuck right up on them. So it takes him a bit longer than it normally would to realize that the firmness under his shoulder is not the cold cave floor but Malroth’s hot, bare chest. His vest has slid away from his sides now that he’s lying on his back, but his intense stare hasn’t lessened from the shock at all. It looks like it barely even phased him. Zach is almost positive that Malroth had pulled Zach down on top of him on purpose.

And isn’t _that_ an idea.

Despite the lack of shock on his face, Malroth does still seem a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I – thought it was a monster.” Malroth squirms a little under him but seems otherwise unbothered by their position.

“Heck of a monster,” Zach responds quietly. He doesn’t feel like pushing his suspicion any further though, so he takes a few steadying breaths and focuses instead on calming his frazzled nerves. He can feel his elbow digging into Malroth’s abdomen, so he tries to resituate himself without moving too much.

He doesn’t want to get up yet.

He ends up with his hands balancing him against Malroth’s chest, and once he realizes how _weird_ that is, he goes to move them again. But as he stares down into Malroth’s unblinking, warm gaze, he can’t seem to force his limbs to move. He feels a drop of sweat gather on his chin, and the cave is so quiet in the wake of the lightning that Zach swears he hears the droplet when he watches it fall and plip! in the hollow of Malroth’s throat.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees one of Malroth’s ears twitch. The silence feels even more oppressive.

Malroth shifts minutely under him, and his throat bobs. Zach can feel his muscles tense and release and tense again and knows that Malroth is dying to move.

But does he want to move away…or closer?

He doesn’t realize that he’s been slowly leaning down until Malroth’s face is suddenly inches from his. He shudders out a hot breath, and Malroth’s pupils go big when it brushes over his lips. Zach hesitates for a split, painful second before deciding _fuck it_ and throwing all caution to the wind.

He brushes his mouth feather light across Malroth’s skin until he can whisper next to his ear, “Do you want to…”

Malroth’s answer comes immediately and with an equal lack of hesitation or consideration for future consequences when he breathes out, “ _Yes_.”

Zach lets his arms – shaking from the effort of holding him away from Malroth – finally drop him to press flush against his burning skin. He doesn’t waste a moment in burying his face in the crook of Malroth’s shoulder, nosing his vest out of the way so he can press wet kisses against his neck.

“Shit!” Malroth jerks beneath him and digs his fingers into the back of Zach’s shirt. Zach doesn’t stop. He breathes deeply, basking in the salty scent of sweat and the cool freshness of rainwater. Under them both is something unique to Malroth, a smell that defies definition but feels like safety and happiness to Zach. He smiles against Malroth’s neck before licking a stripe up to the underside of his jaw.

Malroth’s quiet gasp is followed by a string of hissed expletives, and he squeezes his arms around Zach so tightly that it cuts off his breathing for a moment. He’s about to switch to the other side of his neck until Malroth bites out, “Hold on.” Zach immediately backs off and pulls back enough to look at Malroth’s face for direction. His eyes are squeezed shut, and he’s breathing hard, but Zach doubts Malroth asked him to stop because he was already close.

Malroth finally cracks his eyes open and loosens his grip on Zach long enough to grit out, “If we’re gonna keep going then I need to get off the ground. This is killing my back.”

Zach can’t help taking this chance to tease him a little. “Wow, giving up your godlike super powers really turned you into an old man, huh?”

Malroth sneers. “Look, you may only weigh as much as a handful of coffee beans, but you’re the one that spoiled all of your friends with nice beds. You could at least give your _best_ friend a bedroll if you’re going to fuck him.”

Zach chokes. He’s going to have to hunt down whoever taught Malroth to be so sly with his comebacks.

“Geez, alright. Let me check my bag. But I’m telling you right now, if there’s not one in there, I’m not gonna take the time to build one. I’ll let you lie on _me_ on the ground, or you can fuck me against the wall. I do not care.” He huffs and pushes off of Malroth, grimacing at the uncomfortable drag of wet clothes on his skin. Malroth doesn’t immediately let go though.

His eyes are superheated rubies, and his unwavering gaze burns the air in Zach’s lungs.

“You can’t tell me to get up and then look at me like that! Do you want a bedroll or not, you asshole?”

Malroth blinks, and the fire in his eyes banks to the warmth of smoldering coals as he finally lets Zach move. Zach doesn’t think he’s ever moved so fast in his life. He doesn’t remember taking his bag off when they got to the cave, but it must have happened sometime between them collapsing in a wet heap and them making a fire because it is dangerously close to the mouth of the cave where rainwater is slowly creeping up. He drags it over to the fire to dry while they…well.

And the goddess must be looking down on them and watching how desperate Zach is to bone Malroth because, mercy of mercies, there’s a straw bedroll inside his bag.

He kisses it with grateful smack of his lips and closes his eyes when he tips his head up to the ceiling in a quick prayer that Rubiss most definitely wouldn’t want to hear out loud. Malroth must still be watching him because Zach hears him laugh and call him over. “Alright, goofball, get back over here already.” Zach unrolls the sleeping bag as he goes, and Malroth scoots out of the way when he tosses it on the ground. He leans down to smooth the edges out as Malroth rolls back onto it and gets comfortable, and he doesn’t give Zach time to finish before he snags his wrist and pulls him down again.

“Your turn.” Zach feels a sliver of vertigo as he’s flipped onto his back, and Malroth suddenly looms over him with a hungry smile. He wonders if this is how a rabbit feels under the focused stare of a wolf.

Malroth goes right for Zach’s throat, skipping right over kisses and jumping to teasing nips of his teeth. Zach grunts rather unattractively and feels his legs try to draw up on instinct for better leverage to push his hips up, but Malroth is sitting firmly on his thighs. He knows Malroth didn’t miss this when he hears him breathe sharply out of his nose like he’s trying to hide his laughter. He doesn’t fully think it through before he reaches up to pinch one of Malroth’s nipples in revenge.

Malroth _growls_ and bites down hard on his neck, and thunder rolls over threateningly in the sky outside. Zach’s dick jumps, and his breath falters. Malroth pulls back slowly, and they look at each other for seconds that drag like eternity before they both try to speak at once.

“You need to take off your shirt _right now_.”

“You should let me lick your other one.”

They both pause.

Then as one they start trying to divest each other of any piece of clothing they can get their hands on. Zach is faster and shoves Malroth’s dumb purple vest off of his shoulders, bullying him back enough to slide it down his arms. Zach’s mouth dries out when he sees those muscles glistening with sweat in the firelight up close and personal. He swallows thickly. Malroth seems to know what he’s thinking and smiles dangerously.

Instead of going back to trying to rip all of the buttons out of Zach’s shirt, he lowers his head again and presses a lingering kiss above the topmost button.

Then he pops it open.

\-----

** Malroth **

Malroth drags his lips away from Zach’s skin and replaces them with teasing fingers. He kisses slowly, softly, up Zach’s neck and smiles in delight when Zach bucks from the hot tongue that smooths along his jawline. But when he tries to press another kiss at the corner of Zach’s lips, his face is pushed away. He draws back in confusion.

“Don’t you dare try to kiss me.” He jerks back from shock and hurt, but Zach forges on before he can decide what to do. “Dude, I _watched_ you chew on that vine earlier. Don’t think I forgot that. There’s no way in hell you’re kissing me on the mouth.”

Malroth tries not to be too obvious about the overwhelming relief he feels just then. Realistically, they haven’t talked about it, and they definitely should have first. He knows that. But part of him hopes beyond all hope that maybe…Zach wouldn’t hate a kiss from him next time. Or will even want a next time. Malroth isn’t sure how the hell they’re supposed to go back to Malroth hiding boners after monster fights now. But he can think about that later. Right now…

“Well, if I can’t kiss you on the mouth, then…” He goes back to the next button down on the shirt and presses another quick kiss above it before he pops that one open too. He watches the rise and fall of Zach’s chest quicken when he pushes his shirt open as much as the buttons allow for at the moment. Zach’s shirt is so soaked through that he easily spots a stiff nipple through the white fabric and decides to get some of his own revenge. He swiftly undoes another button to give the shirt enough room to stretch and allow him to move his hands and quickly shucks his gloves off. He smooths his thumbs under both nipples in tandem, unhurried and rhythmic and absolutely frustrating if Zach’s hiss is any indication. He drags it out, circling a nipple teasingly before returning to the infuriating back and forth. But ever so slowly, ever so surely, his fingers stray infinitesimally closer, and right as Zach starts to lift his chest up to push past that final distance between them, Malroth swipes his tongue flatly over one nipple and meanly twists the other.

Zach’s helpless gasp sends a bolt of white-hot fire straight to his cock. Malroth snarls and uses his free hand to wrench a few more buttons free all at once while he continues to torment Zach’s chest. He finally feels Zach reach up and bury his hands in his wet hair and swallows a groan when Zach tugs through tangles and scrapes nails over his scalp. He doesn’t resist when Zach uses his grip on his hair to drag him away from his chest and down to where the last of the buttons wait. He can feel Zach’s dick pressing up against his chest through his tight jeans and is suddenly glad that Zach can’t feel or see how hard he is right now just from kissing and touching him.

He undoes the final buttons on Zach’s shirt and takes a moment to lean back and admire the view. Zach’s hands fall away from his hair and rest on the ground by his flushed face. Sprawled out on his back the way he is with his shirt pushed apart and just falling off of his shoulders, chest heaving with shuddering breaths, he’s a feast that Malroth has no intention of holding back from devouring. Before he tugs the ends of Zach’s shirt from his pants, he presses his nose against the skin beside his belly button. Zach’s abdomen tenses and he giggles. Malroth nearly purrs at the sound.

He inhales deeply, trying to breathe in all of the scents that make up Zach. He can taste the sourness of adrenaline on the back of his tongue, and the salt from Zach’s sweat makes his mouth water. He nearly sneezes as a musty whiff of pollen assaults his nose, still clinging stubbornly to the few dry places left on Zach’s clothing. His favorite scents by far, though, are the ones Zach picks up from building and carries on him like a work of art. The sweetness of sap from woodworking. The metallic bite of iron and steel. And that unique electric sizzle that magic holds hides right under Zach’s skin like a Zap Trap. Malroth can taste all of it when he dips his tongue into Zach’s belly button. He’s quickly knocked away when Zach’s hips rut up into him with more force than he’s shown yet, and Malroth takes the hint for what it is and yanks the rest of Zach’s shirt from his pants.

They work together to push Zach’s shirt off all the way, and as soon as it’s free, Malroth’s hands are roaming hungrily all over the new skin, pants forgotten. He feels like a starving dog that was thrown a whole steak, but his amazement overrides his hunger. He and Zach have seen each other in many levels of undress before, but it’s different, somehow, knowing that he can touch and openly look now. He can knead the wiry muscle Zach has built up in his once scrawny arms from swinging his hammer and keeping up with Malroth in battle. He can tickle his sides just to hear another bright laugh. He can wrap his mouth around his nipple to hear that laugh melt into a moan just for him.

He doesn’t pull away again to stare in awe – because it’s all he can do to keep himself from trying to push closer and closer until they embody the same space – but he giddily watches the skin under his mouth shiver in pleasure and shine with a sheen of sweat, and he still wants more.

\-----

** Zach **

Zach’s head is spinning in the best way he could ever possibly imagine. How in the world is he lucky enough to go from suspecting he has a nasty head cold to nearly coming in his jeans from Malroth’s mouth all over his body? He decides against sending another quick thank you to the goddess when Malroth flicks his tongue over his nipple again (that may be pushing her patience and acceptance a little too far), but that doesn’t stop him from basking in the absolute bliss of that wet heat on his skin.

With his shirt finally off, some of the damp chill is gone, but without that cool barrier, he feels like the heat around him is all-consuming. The flames from the fire warm one side of his body entirely, and the rest of him is slowly being set alight by Malroth. He’s a heavy weight on Zach’s upper legs, and his searing hands travel over every inch of Zach’s skin they can reach.

Zach is suddenly proud of how their adventures have shaped him. He’s no bodybuilder, no Malroth for sure, but it’s clear even to him how strong he has become over the course of their friendship. His string bean limbs have hardened into lean muscle. His rounded edges have melted and become sharper, steelier, and he can tell Malroth has noticed as well. There’s a single-minded focus flashing in his eyes when he ducks his head to trace his tongue along the definition of Zach’s abdomen. He feels Malroth’s hands slide soothingly up and down his sides a few times before he suddenly rakes his nails all the way down Zach’s ribs. Caught off guard, Zach arches his back and lets out a humiliating, high-pitched whine that even the howling winds outside can’t hide, but his embarrassment vanishes like the wisps of smoke over the fire when he feels Malroth growl against his skin and buck sharply against his legs. Goddess, his dick is so fucking hard. He needs to get things moving or they’re not even going to make it out of their pants before this is over.

“Get off my legs,” he gasps. “Get off.” It takes several long moments and plenty of pushing to convince Malroth to pull his mouth away, and then it takes even longer to reposition themselves without taking out someone’s eye.

“Watch your elbow!”

“Watch your face,” Malroth snarks.

They end up with Malroth between Zach’s legs this time, and before Malroth can return to sucking all over his chest, Zach grabs his belt with both hands and tugs him forward so that they’re finally pressed hip to hip. They both groan, long and low, and Zach drinks in the heat where their bodies press flush together.

“Hey, we’re friends, right?” Malroth gasps out the question, looking pained. Zach’s laugh comes out a little crazed.

“I mean, extremely weird question for the situation, but yeah.”

“Then I expect you not to judge me when I say I don’t think I’m gonna last long enough for us to get actually get all of our clothes off. I feel like I’m burning from the inside out. Can we just do something like this?”

Zach laughs again, but this time he makes sure it come across much more genuine. “Sure thing. I at least want to touch you though, so back up so I can reach the front of your belt.” Malroth groans again like he really, really doesn’t want to wait even long enough for that, but he relents when Zach starts pushing him again.

Touching Malroth’s cool silver belt buckle – the only cold thing left between the two of them – with his bare hands feels like taking a plunge into the underground lake in Khrumbul-Dun after mining for hours on end. An icy clarity washes over him, and he pauses when he’s slapped with the abrupt realization that he’s about to rub dicks with his best friend in a soggy cave on an evil island. Are they really going to do this? Shouldn’t they be, like, talking about it more first? Did that flower really make them so horny that they threw all propriety to the wind and decided to fuck despite any future consequences to their friendship? Zach’s hand trembles slightly on the buckle.

“Hey.” Zach blinks, and his hand stills immediately. He looks up and sees Malroth looking down at him with a scrutinizing stare. “You’ve got that face on. You’re overthinking things again.”

“What? I don’t have a _face_ for that. You’re making that up.”

“That’s like one of your three default expressions, genius. ‘Goofy idiot’ and ‘I’m about to pass out because I don’t take breaks to eat’ are the others in case you were wondering.” Malroth rolls his eyes. “If I know you, you’re probably getting stuck up on whether or not we would have ever done this without getting that pollen spit in our faces, but it happened. Stop freaking about the what ifs. We can freak out after my dick doesn’t feel like it’s about to fall off. Will you just get my belt off already?”

He has a powerful urge to laugh again suddenly. Maybe it’s just the relief of being reminded so bluntly that he’s here with _Malroth_ , not some stranger. They’ve had each other’s back through thick and thin and knocked sense back into each other through even the worst situations. Compared to those times, is this really worth panicking about? He decides to shelve his nerve-wracking thoughts for now and attack this like any other tough situation: by joking his way through it to lighten the mood.

He reaches for Malroth’s belt again and tries with a wink, “I really wish your pants had a zipper so I could pull it down with my teeth.”

Malroth looks like he’s mere seconds from combusting. _Oh,_ Zach thinks. _He’s so red. Was that too far?_

Malroth must decide that he’s had enough of jokes and is absolutely done waiting on Zach because in a flurry of movement, he reaches past Zach’s arms and straight for his belt. He has it unfastened more quickly than Zach could probably do it himself and immediately moves to the laces on Zach’s jeans and starts yanking like he’s trying to beat a world record. Zach shares his fervor and hastens to pull Malroth’s belt completely off of him with a powerful tug and sling it across the cave. There’s not much else holding his pants up at this point. The material is loose and airy to allow for easy movement during battle, and other than a sturdy tie and the belt, the pants have no defense against Zach’s nimble fingers.

Malroth apparently still has enough sense in him to be irritated though. “Was that really necessary? I’m gonna have to go look for it later,” he complains.

Zach rolls his eyes but doesn’t answer, too focused on clumsily untangling the tie on Malroth’s pants. He easily wins their race, and Malroth hisses as the cool cave air washes over his freed cock, fisting his hand in Zach’s laces without thought. He hisses even louder when Zach wraps careful fingers around him and teases as Malroth struggles to hurriedly finish unlacing his pants. Zach leisurely slips his free hand behind his head and watches Malroth pant and grimace. Finally, Malroth has enough and yanks one final time before smacking his hands back down on either side of Zach’s smirking face.

“Okay, you have two choices: you get your own stupid fucking pants undone, or I get the shears.” Zach’s dick jumps in his pants at Malroth’s tone. He wonders what it will take to hear it again.

“You’re really gonna leave me here,” he emphasizes his words with a flick of his thumb over the head of Malroth’s cock, “long enough to find the shears in my bag?” Zach throws out a dramatic, pitiful sigh. “I may already be done by the time you get back.”

Malroth _snarls_. “Third option. You get to come in your pants.” He moves one arm and presses the heel of his palm down into Zach’s groin with just enough pressure to still be on the perfect side of painful. That doesn’t stop Zach’s brain from imagining the several-hour-long boat ride back to the Isle of Awakening in sticky jeans.

“Wait, wait, wait! I have to wear these the whole way back!” He drops his coy act and starts trying to fix the mess Malroth made with his laces.

He also ignores Malroth’s pointed sneer and amused, “That’s what I thought.”

By the time Zach finally manages to sort out whatever the actual hell Malroth did to his laces, he feels like he’s walking on a razor’s edge of sensitivity. His dick endures the whiplash of being suddenly free from the tight confines of wet jeans and underclothes to meeting the chilly cave air, but before he can even get himself remotely under control, Malroth’s searing hand wraps around him, and he almost loses himself right there.

“Wait, fuck, give me a second,” he begs, voice cracking. He feels Malroth’s hand move away without argument, and he puts his own hands up over his flushed face for a moment, a shoddy reprieve from the situation. In the dark bubble of his hands, he can feel every sensation zinging through his body with overwhelming clarity. The straw of the bedroll itching against the bare skin of his back. The uncomfortable clinging of his jeans. The sweat dripping down the sides of his face tickling his hairline. He feels his blood singing through every inch of him, a scorching drumbeat with no end in sight.

He wonders if Malroth has the same furious rhythm sounding in his chest.

He moves his hands to touch, to seek out the comfort of that phantom harmony resounding in his head. He presses them into tan skin nicked and warped in places from battles long before now and feels his own heartbeat light up each fingertip. It takes his whole palm, cradling the solid muscle of Malroth’s chest, to find the siren song of his strong heart. It pounds like a war drum in the sweltering thick of battle, and Zach rests his hand there in silent awe, willing his own heart to sync with that wild rhythm. His other hand finds its way over puckered scars and unyielding collarbones and slides through slick sweat to press against a thick vein on his neck.

Here, just like this, he feels each heartbeat start in one body and end inside the other – their searing shared pulse an unending cycle of breathtaking exhilaration that leaves Zach dizzy with delicious vertigo.

He thinks he hears Malroth whine above him.

He knows for sure that he did when Malroth chokes out, “Come on, you can’t just touch me all over and not let me touch you too. I’m seriously about to lose my fucking mind, Zach. Can I please just – ”

Zach doesn’t waste any more time. He leaves one hand raised to Malroth’s neck to keep the rhythm flowing under his fingers and wraps his other once more around Malroth’s cock. The groan of pure relief that earns him is drowned out by a sudden clash of lightning striking the ground outside. Zach had completely forgotten about the storm and jerks in surprise. His attention is drawn back when he feels a gentle hand cup his jaw and a thumb rub his bottom lip.

“You’ve got a really pretty mouth, you know. Really wish you’d let me kiss it,” Malroth grumbles. He makes a real show of being put out – exaggerated frown, thick eyebrows scrunched together – but Zach doesn’t miss the mischievous twinkle swimming in his eyes. His heart does skip a beat at the idea that Malroth really thinks he’s pretty though.

“Maybe next time you’ll brush your teeth first.” Zach quirks an impish smile back at him, lip pulling under the pressure of Malroth’s finger, and smears his thumb up through the precum leaking from the head of Malroth’s cock. There’s not nearly enough of it there to even begin to coat his hand, but he gives him a few languid strokes anyway, and delightedly watches the array of colorful expressions that play over Malroth’s face. It’s not that he’s normally guarded or hard to read; he’s an open book to Zach’s keen eye even on the worst of days. But Zach feels a thrill run up his spine knowing that he’s the cause of every twist of his lips and unfocused, squinting glare. He tightens the circle of his fingers on an upstroke, and Malroth’s chest heaves out a gusty breath. He spends a few meandering seconds letting his fingers catch on inky black hairs at the base of his cock, and Malroth’s jaw clenches so hard that his teeth scrape together. Zach can gauge his distraction by the fingers on his face. Every time that thumb stutters in its exploration of Zach’s lips, the side of his nose, the soft skin beneath his eye, the fair hair of his eyebrow, Zach can tell he’s done something worth repeating. Malroth’s open expressions are the blueprint of his wildest dreams.

After a few more lazy strokes that have Malroth tensing up rigidly above him, he directs Malroth’s hips a little farther down, a little more forward – and slots his own cock into his grip. They both groan, and their hips buck in unison. He’s about to move his other hand away from that pulse striking away under his fingertips – make his grip big enough to wrap around the both of them – and then feels a bigger, warmer hand partially envelop his own. His breath catches in his throat. He can feel the vast strength lurking in that grip, in that hand that has wielded countless weapons and slain thousands of monsters. Malroth squeezes them both tighter through Zach’s hand, and Zach’s dick jolts with anticipation. He misses the hand on his face but can’t complain about where it’s decided to move to.

It doesn’t take them long to find a steady pace to fuck into their shared grip after they smear more precum down their lengths. He tries to keep it slow at first, to drag it out and make every second count. He had joked about “next time” earlier, but his head is still a little foggy and his lips a little loose from the pollen, so who knows if Malroth realizes he actually meant it? If he’s never going to get this chance again, he doesn’t want to rush it. But Malroth clearly isn’t on his wavelength. With his hand on top and much stronger than Zach’s, he easily controls their pace and the pressure of their grip. He ruts down into their palms over and over, and the force makes Zach slide enough to scrape his back against the rough straw beneath him. His back might be pink once this is over, but he’s going to treasure the sting.

Their tempo grows frenzied. Zach follows their rhythm on two fronts: their heartbeats dance in unison on his fingertips, and the war drum pounds in his head as they slide together, hot and slick under his sweating palm. Malroth, eyes wild, grips them tighter on every upstroke, fingers dragging through their mixing liquids and smearing more of it over both of their lengths like war paint. Zach feels molten lava pooling low in his gut, in between his legs and up through their clasped fingers, close to bubbling over like a boiling stew on a cookfire. He feels a whine roll over in the back of his throat and hears it echoed by a thunderous wail in the sky outside. Malroth must hear him too because their pace gets even faster then, and Zach has to drop his hand from Malroth’s neck to brace himself against the ground and keep up.

One of his boots slips on the edge of the bedroll – soaking wet from their dripping clothes – and he curses them both for not taking a few damned seconds longer to throw their pants off so he could at least push his legs open wider. His head spins, and heat builds behind his eyes as they desperately rock against each other harder and faster.

Malroth drops his head against Zach’s chest, breaths heavy and loud. His mouth is unbearably hot, lips slurring over his skin and blowing moist breaths over Zach’s shivering, sweaty skin. He slides the edges of his teeth painfully close to Zach’s nipple, but it’s not enough. It’s not enough, it’s _not_ _enough_ , and he needs something _more,_ has to get _closer, closer, closer_ –

And then Malroth moves so quickly that Zach’s blurring eyes can’t keep up, can’t track his movements until his tongue is already licking a searing stripe up Zach’s exposed neck, straight up to the silky-smooth skin behind his ear and his nose buries itself there. The lava in his gut finally erupts. The molten white-hot heat overflows and splashes up through their linked fingers, paints his stomach and drips in his navel as he lets out an unrestrained cry. His head digs back against the hard, straw pallet, and his chest arches up so sharply that he feels Malroth’s own slide against his. He has just enough sense left in his head to feel a second, scorching wave of foreign heat rain over his own mess, to hear the strained, whining moan right by his ear.

Then his ears ring with that particular brand of silence only heard after one’s world has been turned on its head. He is numb to his body, limbs just a pile of melted pudding on a cold cave floor, and he lets his mind float in whited-out bliss.

\-----

** Malroth **

As they curl together, finally naked and sated under a dry blanket beside the fire, Malroth pricks his ears to listen for the sounds of rain. The storm sounds far away now and has only left behind droplets to trickle at the mouth of the cave. He hears a final rumble from the sky miles away, but it’s nothing more than a contented purr, not unlike the sound Zach makes as Malroth drags fingers through his drying hair and plays with the wispy curls at the base of his neck. Other than the occasional pop from their low-burning fire and the drip of their clothes hanging on an improvised line, the cave rests in a comfortable silence.

Malroth waits for the other shoe to drop. 

It can’t be this simple…right? The hazy heat from the pollen has all but washed away in the aftermath of mind-blowing sex, and here he is calmly lying buck ass naked with one arm under Zach’s body and the other twirling his golden hair around his fingers. He had recovered much faster than Zach, who had lain there in a blissed-out haze for several long minutes with cum all over his front. Malroth had taken the opportunity to slide his fingers around in it, drawing fanciful shapes with no true intention other than possessively enjoying a few moments of Zach limply letting him touch just a bit more. Zach’s ticklishness finally won out over his numb pleasure because he had eventually reacted to Malroth’s lazy fingers and turned his body to curl towards him. He had gripped Malroth’s wrist loosely to stop the tickling, but his sleepy, trusting eyes had shown that he didn’t truly mind. Malroth’s heart had clenched with some unnamable feeling when he’d stared into that beautiful blue.

But neither of them has found the courage to speak yet. He just keeps waiting for the second when one of them finally can’t hold in whatever feelings have been building up for the past few hours and blurts out something stupid that makes everything totally awkward. That seems in character for both of them, actually. He feels like a bit of a hypocrite for feeling that way after he had told Zach not to flip his shit over what ifs earlier, but now that his dick doesn’t at all feel like it’s about to fall off – in a bad way at least – he has all the time in the world to panic.

Zach yawns like a cat napping on a sunny windowsill, stretches as much as his spot in Malroth’s arms will allow, and buries his cold nose in the hollow of Malroth’s throat.

“Hey, watch it. Why are you still so cold?” There’s no real heat behind his words though. He’s too tired to do more than lightly tug on Zach’s hair in retaliation. Zach apparently doesn’t lack the energy to make himself more of a nuisance though. As usual.

“Oh, you think _that’s_ bad?” A chill runs down Malroth’s back in sudden warning, but his body still isn’t responding at any speed above sluggish, so he isn’t able to dodge Zach smacking his cold, clammy toes on one of his legs. He yelps and tries to squirm away, but Zach wraps his arms around him like an octopus and shoves cold fingers all over his back. They break into a harmless tussle, the goal of which devolves into seeing who can stick as many cold fingers and toes behind each other’s knees and against each other’s necks as possible. The tension in Malroth’s shoulders slowly dissipates as the cave fills with their laughter. Even if Zach decides that he doesn’t want to do this again someday, Malroth at least knows without a doubt that they’ll still always be friends.

Eventually both of them remember that their muscles still feel like jelly, and they settle back down on the scratchy bedroll, this time with Zach playing with Malroth’s wild hair. They’re both quiet for a few minutes, but Malroth can feel a strange tension floating in the air now, not unlike the feeling he gets before monster attacks. He wonders if he should try to break it, crack a joke to lighten the mood before either of them can ruin anything by voicing their overthinking thoughts aloud, but Zach beats him to the punch.

“You know…did I tell you about the strong monsters on this island?”

“Um, yeah.” Malroth quirks an eyebrow suspiciously. “I asked you earlier, remember? You said we didn’t have time for that.” He can’t really say he’s all that peeved about it anymore after what he got to do instead.

Zach’s fingers tighten in his hair briefly and then move to scratch through the hairline at the base of his neck. Malroth sighs. “Maybe…if you want. We could, uh…we – could go fight them all and come back here?” The last part comes out in a high-pitched rush, sounding like much more of a question than a suggestion.

Malroth stills. Is Zach – ?

“I mean, we don’t have to. That was kind of a dumb idea anyway. We probably couldn’t fight them all back to back, and you probably don’t want _my_ help after battles or – "

“You want to help me get off after battles?” Malroth’s voice comes out hoarse.

Zach’s hands disappear from his hair, and Malroth rolls over to see them covering his face instead. He can see a bright red flush crawling up to Zach’s hairline and settling over his ears. Malroth won’t make him look him in the eye or anything, but he has to make sure he’s not being pranked. There’s no way he’s this lucky.

“Do you mean that? You gotta tell me if you’re serious. I don’t think I can handle you teasing me – ”

“No!” Zach’s hands fly away from his heated face, and he looks upset. “I wouldn’t joke about that. About this. Look,” he runs a tremoring hand back through his hair, pushing it out of his face. “I don’t want to mess our friendship up over what some flower made us do. Wait, I’m not finished.” He holds up a preemptive hand to make Malroth back down before he can argue.

“The flower may have made us horny – ”

“ _So_ horny,” Malroth adds unhelpfully.

Zach shoots him a very unimpressed look. “But,” he continues, “I don’t want you to think I regret it. I…really enjoyed it, actually.” One of his hands sneakily circles Malroth’s wrist and rubs soothingly against the soft skin on the inside of his arm. “And if – I mean – if you ever wanted to do it again, I would totally be down for that.” He juts his chin out in a parody of a proud stance – hard to stand tall when you’re lying naked on the ground – and stares Malroth right in the eyes, waiting for rejection.

Too bad Malroth was born to defy expectations. He smirks. “So, if I said I wanted to go pummel a hoard of monsters _right now_ and fuck you up against a tree after, you’d come with me?”

Zach breathes out shakily, and his leg twitches under the blanket, but he firmly answers, “As long as you still want to be my friend too.”

Malroth laughs heartily. The tightness that he hadn’t realized was curled up in his chest like a viper uncurls and slithers away. He knows they’re going to be just fine.

\-----

They laze around for a few more hours and enjoy it much more thoroughly now that they aren’t both secretly worried about losing each other again. Their hands wander for a while, but neither of them has the kind of energy to actually follow through with anything close to Malroth’s earlier suggestion, so they just bask in the remaining warmth from the fire and the shared heat of their bodies until the dripping from the cave mouth finally quiets. The sky is growing dark outside, darker still than the storm had made it, so they know that they’re losing the last of daylight. They really should get up, but they both seem to be of the mind that whoever moves first loses, so it takes some more playful shoving until Zach finally sighs and makes the first move. But before he stands, he pecks Malroth’s cheek with a fleeting kiss and reaches over to give him a cheeky smack on the ass before hauling himself up. The shock of it after the sweet kiss has Malroth laughing again, and he complains way less than he usually would when tugging his still-slightly-damp clothes back on. He rolls the bedroll back up while Zach gathers their bags and tosses him his belt from some dark corner of the cave that he never would have thought to look in.

It’s as they’re walking back in the direction of the boat that a stray thought niggles the back of Malroth’s mind.

“Hey, Zach…where are the vines?”

It takes them another half-hour to frantically retrace their steps in the dark back to where Malroth had left the basket earlier in the day when Zach had his coughing fit, and it leaves Malroth plenty of time to make sly jokes about just giving up and finding a new flower to steal from (and possibly punch). That earns him a surprisingly well-aimed punch of his own right in his arm. So much for Zach needing to work on his aim.

By the time they finally make their way back to Brownbeard’s ship, they both feel like their arms are close to falling off from carrying the hefty basket of vines between them. They thunk it on the dock and take a breather as they both trip over themselves to find a clever explanation for why they were gone for so long and left the captain standing in the rain for hours.

\-----

** Zach **

“Hey, Griswold?”

“That’s Captain Griswold, Builder!”

Zach had just finished delivering the vines he and Malroth had gone through so much trouble (and pleasure) to collect, and Gremville’s only thanks was to complain that they were still soaking wet. Zach had only said that it would at least water down the motor oil flavor and decided to go hunt down Griswold to finally get some answers about the weird flower that caused the best day of his life. He found the captain puttering around the Green Gardens, tending to his own personal greenhouse.

“I have a question about a flower if you’re not too busy.” Zach runs his finger down a trailing vine hanging from the ceiling and waits for Griswold to set his watering can down.

“I’m never too busy for you, Builder! Taking an interest in botany, are we?” Griswold grins hopefully down at him. Zach hates to disappoint, he really does, but he’s learned the hard way not to mess with strange plants.

“Uh, not quite. There was just this plant on the island me and Malroth just went to that I was curious about.”

“The one like Malhalla?” Griswold’s voice is muted as he leans down to poke around in a cabinet under the table. He comes back out with a small basket of green seedlings and sets them by his elbow as he continues to search for something else.

“Yeah, just like it, actually. You remember those red flowers that grew all over the cliffs around the escape ship? They had big red petals and those creepy vines – ”

“Ah, Poxgloves! So that’s why Gremville seemed so excited this morning. Did you two go out of your way to bring him his favorite food?” Griswold picks up a tiny trowel that looks comically out of place in his large, bony hand and starts filling a tray with soil.

“Yeah, not that he was very grateful about it,” Zach snorts fondly and leans over the table to rub the springy leaf of a seedling between his fingers. “But the flower we saw was kind of different than the ones I remember from Malhalla.”

There’s a loud shattering noise from the open door of the greenhouse, and Zach whips his head around to see Malroth struggling with a pile of terra cotta pots. He gives up quickly on trying to right them again and instead shoves them haphazardly into a corner with his foot before making his way over with a guiltless grin on his face. “What are you two lazybones up to? Rosie asked me to go find some extra hands for the pumpkin patch if you guys have nothing else to do.”

Zach gives him a pointed look. “I was just asking Griswold about the flower we saw on that island.”

Malroth, bless his heart, is terrible at being anything resembling subtle, but to his credit, he tries anyway. His eyes go wide, and he lets out a long “Ooo-ohhh” before coughing into his fist and adopting a suspiciously casual posture. “So, did you find out anything cool about it?”

Zach hides a smile by peering under the table for another sack of dirt for Griswold’s tray.

“Hadn’t quite got to that part yet, but you’re free to stick around and avoid pumpkin patch duty if you want to hear it too.”

“I would totally rather hear about cannibal plants than dig up dumb pumpkins any day.” He leans forward expectantly and demands, “Come on, Griswold. Tell us everything you know about man-eating plants!” Zach stands back up, search for dirt forgotten, and tries to uphold a more convincing air of nonchalance than Malroth.

Griswold finally pauses in his gardening long enough to fix Malroth with an oddly expressive look of confusion considering he has no facial muscles to actually make expressions with. “Did one of you get a bite taken out of you? Those plants aren’t supposed to have teeth.”

Zach sighs in exasperation and crosses his arms over his chest. “I told you they aren’t carnivores, Malroth.” He turns his attention to Griswold when he continues, “The plants just smelled like rotten meat, so he was paranoid. But the one we saw was full of this glittery pollen – ”

“Oh, I’m very jealous!” Griswold claps his hands together and flings dirt over both of them with the trowel. “You got to observe the flower during its mating season!”

Zach chokes on his spit. And some dirt. Malroth just looks confused as he wipes his face off. “You make it sound like it’s an animal.”

Griswold nods. “Well you aren’t that far off. Poxgloves smell like meat because their petals and vines are made of flesh very similar to animal and human flesh.” Zach feels his stomach turn over and the blood flee his face. His mind flashes back briefly his time in Malhalla where he had to watch Gremville slurp countless vines down like a hearty pasta dish, and he fights his nausea down.

Griswold is still speaking as he digs divots in the soil. “The male flowers are actually mobile and use their vines to travel in search of a female partner when they are in season. The pollen you saw is what makes the ‘meat smell’ so much stronger than normal. It is how a female plant attracts traveling male plants. The petals of a male plant have purple spots on their surface that act as sensors – like a human’s taste buds or nose – and when they detect this pollen, they know there is a female plant in the area to mate with.” Griswold pauses and looks down at the both of them curiously. “You two didn’t happen to come in contact with any pollen, did you?”

“No!”

“Of course not!”

Their hurried responses don’t lend much credence to their denial, but Griswold seems to be too wrapped up in his botanical explanations to take notice. “Well that’s a relief! If you _had_ , there’s no telling how it might have affected you. The pollen incites a need to mate in the male plants, and since their fleshy makeup is not unlike a human’s or animal’s, it is possible it might have caused a similar reaction. How ghastly!”

They both blush and flick a shared glance between themselves. “Yeah, can’t imagine…” Malroth says lamely.

Griswold continues, placing the seedlings into the planter on the table and lovingly covering their delicate roots. “But I suppose it’s nothing to truly worry about. The timespan of the mating is quite short. The females only release their pollen when their vines sense the vibrations of a traveling male’s vines. Or sometimes the pollen is knocked loose during a particularly hard storm or such.” Zach shoots a quick, accusing glare at Malroth who is pointedly avoiding his eyes. “The closer the male plant is, the more likely it will sense the female’s pollen and the higher the chance is they will mate. The effects of the pollen only last an average of half an hour, so there would probably be no long-term afflictions for a human, especially considering how humans and animals have a much higher rate of metabolism than Poxgloves.”

Zach blanches. “Are you saying that, hypothetically, if a human was affected by the pollen, the effects would wear off in only half an hour?” His voice cracks, but he can’t find it in him to care whether or not Griswold suspects anything. Thinking back, it hadn’t taken them quite that long to reach the cave, but there’s also no way that all of that – everything they did – had happened in under half an hour. So, if it wasn’t the flower’s fault…

“Likely even quicker than that!” Griswold cackles. “But if you’d like to help me research, you can always bring me back a flower – ”

They both turn on their heels and beat a hasty retreat before they can hear the rest of _that_ suggestion, but once they’re far enough away from the Gardens to not run into anyone else, an embarrassing silence fills the spaces where Griswold’s laughter was.

Zach peeks at Malroth’s red face and sees his own guilty expression reflected there. They both tear their eyes away and shift awkwardly in place. Zach scuffs his boot uselessly in the dirt and flounders for something to say. Finally, Malroth breaks the silence for him, apparently unable to handle the tension any longer. “So, does this mean we kinda, maybe, both wanted to bone this whole time, and it just took a flower making us super horny for a while for us to get our heads out of our asses?”

Zach laughs helplessly. _Blunt as always,_ he thinks _._ Well, maybe if Malroth isn’t really bothered by it…

“Maybe we really should go back for that flower if it managed to knock some sense into both of us at once.” He laughs again and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly but can’t help how his eyes are drawn to how the sun transforms Malroth’s muscular chest into golden bronze, shining in the bright sun. He sees Malroth eye him back and Zach lets his smile turn flirtatious.

Malroth grins back playfully, and they quickly end up rolling on the grassy ground until they rock up against a nearby tree trunk. Zach looks up at Malroth leaning over him, the edges of his hair lit up like a fiery halo. He can feel the sun resting in dappled patches of warmth across his own face and arms where Malroth’s shadow doesn’t cover him. He shivers involuntarily when his mind suddenly overlays the image of Malroth just a little under a day ago, bent over him panting and groaning in pleasure, on top of the Malroth above him now gazing down with soft eyes and a secretive smile. Zach’s throat goes tight, and his eyes start to burn.

Malroth must notice a change in his face because he leans closer and looks worried. “You okay?” He whispers.

Zach nods and bumps his forehead against Malroth’s steady shoulder. “Just happy,” he mumbles. He feels Malroth’s hand pet his hair soothingly before he nudges Zach back enough to meet his eyes again.

“You think it’s too late for that kiss? I did brush my teeth.” Malroth dazzles him with a wide, toothy grin, and Zach tips his head back and laughs. He wraps his arms around Malroth’s neck and grins back.

“Well, I guess since you brushed your teeth…” He leaves his sentence unfinished when Malroth leans down at the same time he leans up. The sun from above glows through the branches and leaves, and he lets his eyes fall closed against the breathtaking brightness of it all.

Maybe those vines weren’t so vile after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Real quick, here's the [SPOILERS]:  
> \- No consent issues were tagged because, as Griswold explains at the end of the fic, the pollen wore off pretty quickly. They got super horny but the pollen did not specifically alter their decision-making and no one was forced into (or forced anyone else into) any position or situation they didn't want to be in.  
> \- The only sex that happens is two dudes rubbing their dicks together.  
> [SPOILERS OVER]
> 
> So, guys, I hope you enjoyed the fic. I worked super hard on it, and it was a special challenge since it was my first ever attempt to actually write a fic down. I've got documents upon documents of ideas, but until now I've never made myself sit down and flesh any of them out, so this was a ton of fun!
> 
> I'd like to give a special shout out to my sister who edited this for me. I couldn't have asked for a more patient or kind editor. Love you!
> 
> I'd love to hear what you guys think and I love kudos and comments like my own children (which I never want to have any of, so really I'll cherish them MORE)
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> (You guys can find me on Tumblr as canterbury--bells (though for now I'm just gonna be using it to post about when I post a fic here. It'll also probably be a while until I can post another fic anyway since classes are kicking my ass rn)


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